Zeta Vortex: Harry Potter and the Heirs of Magic
by LA Knight
Summary: Ice, Ember, and Ophelia are three girls destined to bring about the end of an age. Caught between Voldemorte and the Ministry, what can they do? SSOC,FWOC,GWOC,HPG,RWHG,LLNL. Starts night of DD's death
1. the Dying Flame

**I don't own anything you don't recognize, obviously, or I wouldn't be on a fanfic sight, I'd be making millions with sexy Severus Snape and Hot Harry Potter and all that. And don't try to sue me. I'm a necromancer. I'm Anita Blake on steroids. I'll raise Johnny Cochran from the dead and have him represent me, and make him do the Chewbacca defense. Do ya got me?**

**Johnny Cochran is dead, right?**

**Chapter One**

**The Dying Flame**

Ember Twilight Tostare, half-blood witch of the gold-red hair like copper fire and hot, new star blue eyes, rushed down the stairs towards Snape's dungeon, her hand clutching convulsively at her belly in fear. She couldn't believe it, she just couldn't believe it. She had to tell Severus immediately.

Coming upon the hallway leading to Severus's office, she saw a fifth year with large, sky blue eyes, and the sixth year she knew to be Hermione Granger, of Harry Potter's acquaintance. "Excuse me," she cried frantically to the two young witches, dashing between them, and dashed into the office. Severus was standing over the unconscious- but thankfully still alive- body of Filius Flitwick.

"Severus!"

"Ember!" The Potions Master jumped in surprise when he saw her. "What are you... what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here, you should be in your room."

"Severus, I- "

"Ember, go back to your room," Snape said coldly. "You shouldn't be here."

"I need to speak with you, Severus. It's important. W-what happened to Filius? What did you do to him?"

"I Stunned him," Snape said quietly. Ember blinked and whispered, "But... but why?"

"He was in the way."

"But he's old! He could be seriously hurt-"

"What are you doing here, Ember?" Snape interrupted her, his voice full of ice. She nearly cringed, then mentally shook herself. She was being a ninny! Severus wouldn't harm her. He… he loved her.

_He attacked Flitwick_, her inner voice whispered in the back of her mind. _He might attack you, as well. You don't know-_

_Bite me and go to Hell in a hand basket_, she thought viciously. _Severus loves me._

_Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?_ The voice asked cruelly. She ignored it and focused on Severus.

"I need to talk to you," she reiterated, taking a step towards him, but then she swayed alarmingly. Oh, no, not _again_. This was fourth time this had happened to her! Dizziness overcame her, and when she took a step, trying to get to a chair before she fainted and fell, she staggered and began to dip, falling. No, no, she couldn't fall, she _couldn't_, it would hurt the... Strong arms caught her and scooped her up, setting her on top of a hard, black, wooden desk. Eyes like burning coals bored into her like needles, snapping her out of the gray fog of half-oblivion.

"I can't talk right now," Snape said ruthlessly, but he rested his forehead against Ember's, staring hard into her eyes.

"Why the hell not?" She demanded.

"I'm busy, I have things to do."

"But-"

"We'll talk _later_, Ember." He turned away, about to walk out of the office, but Ember grabbed his hand and tugged.

"Severus, this is important-"

"There are Death Eaters in the castle! I have to go, I'm needed." He felt her grip tighten on his hand as she swallowed, going paler. Her and Severus's thoughts raced through their minds, and when her grip on his hand tightened fractionally, he realized she was picking up on his emotions again. Damn her.

_What is wrong with me?What is wrong with her?_

_I need to get under control She has never been this… clingy _

_or he'll think I'm just a before. What could she possible _

_hysterical female. Just breathe,have to tell me that cannot wait?_

_dammit, breathed, this is not theIs she ill? Is someone hurt? What_

_end of the world. Christ….is it? She said it was important…._

"I have to defend the castle, Ember." Snape's voice was cutting in its iciness.

Ember's thoughts whipped through her mind quick as lightning. _I have to help him if there are Death Eaters. I have to help defend the castle. But what about… what about…Albric?_ Her arm curled defensively over her belly and she bowed her head, suddenly fighting tears. _What is wrong with me?_

_What the fuck is_ _**wrong** withWhat is wrong with her? Is she _

_me? Why do I suddenly feel **crying**? Great, Severus, now look _

_like crying? It's because I'm… what you've done, you prat! Git! _

_oh, Jesus Christ, I can't evenBastard! You've made her cry._

_**think** it. I'm pitiful. What will heWhy do you have to treat her so _

_do when I tell him? Will itcoldly? Because of your pride?_

_change anything?Your chilling demeanor? Do something!_

"Ember?" Snape's voice, though still cold, had thawed a touch. She whispered, "One minute, Severus, that's all I'm asking." He jerked a nod at her, leaning against the closed office door, arms folded across his chest. "What's going on?" Wait, that wasn't what she'd been planning on saying. Damn, there went her mouth. "Why did you have to Stun Filius, at his age? What's happening? Where are you going? I saw Lupin and Tonks and Arthur, why are they all here? And besides all of that-"

"Minute's up," Snape said, and, straightening, turned to leave. _Okay, now wait just a fucking minute!_ Ember's eyes turned a brilliant, feral gold.

"Severus! Turn around!" Her voice was like the crack of a whip, and Snape instantly stopped. The corner of his mouth twisted up into a half-grin. _I'd wondered where the Valkyri had gone,_ he thought to himself, and slowly turned around.

"I am my lady's servant," he murmured dryly, giving a mocking half-bow.

"Severus, I have something wonderful I have to tell you! Though I…." She trailed off, suddenly uncertain again. What would his reaction be? What would he do? What would he _say_? "I'm not sure I… that I should tell you, you won't like it-" Her eyes had become their regular, heart-of-the-flame blue.

"Spit it out, Ember." Her eyes flashed gold again.

_I'm trying, dammit! Have aWhat is taking her so long? Why _

_little sympathy! I'm about to doesn't she just say whatever it _

_tell you that you're the father is? What could it be to be tearing _

_of my unborn child and allher up so badly? It can't possibly_

_you can do is complain that it'sbe that bad, honestly. What kind of _

_taking me forever to spit it out.trouble could she have possibly gotten_

_I just don't want you to leaveinto that I wouldn't know about?_

_me, Severus, I love you.She must know she's worrying for nothing.._

"I'm getting there! Don't pester!" She blew the bangs out of her face, and he casually reached out and tucked a strand of her lovely copper hair behind her ear. "Damn you, Severus," she said tonelessly, then gave a small, smothered scream of annoyance. "Why is this so bloody hard!"

_"Just say it!"_ He shouted, his calm gone. The vein at his temple began to throb, which made him realize just how on edge he was. Usually Ember's difficulty in spilling out what she meant to say didn't bother him. Tonight's job was having a negative effect on his nerves. He instantly regretted his outburst when his fire-haired witch squeaked and turned wide, frightened eyes on him.

_I'm t-trying, Severus. It's hard.Now look what you've done, you _

_I… I… he didn't mean to yell,went and frightened her with your _

_I know that. He's just on edge blasted temper? Apologize to her, _

_about something. And boy,hug her, something! Make it all right_

_this is not what I would'veagain before she leaves and you lose _

_picked to fix that problem.your last chance ever! Do something_

_I just don't want you to makebefore it's too late and you don't have_

_me get rid of the baby, or leave.anymore time. You've got only five more._

_God, I'm such a wuss.minutes, do something, Snape!_

Snape made the difficult and alien effort to bring down the walls he kept built up around his more tender emotions. He reached out to Ember, who hung back from him. He didn't blame her. He took her hand and pulled her into his arms, studying her face. His heart clenched when a tear streaked down Ember's cheek. He hadn't meant to make her cry, never that, never. Even now, her chin quivered, her mouth trembled until she bit her lip to make it stop. He knew she detested it when she cried.

"Forgive my, heart fire," he whispered, and kissed her upturned mouth once, gently, guiltily. When he pulled back, he immediately buried his face in Ember's thick, fiery gold hair, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender soap and lilac incense.

"It's okay, Severus," she said softly.

"What is it you have to tell me?" He asked, his voice muffled by her hair. She sighed, relieved. He was going to listen to her. Wait, that meant she had to actually get the words out of her mouth. Fuck. She whispered, "I... I have to tell you... I just realized... just found out... well, not just, I found out this morning, but I couldn't figure out how to tell you, or even if to tell, I just couldn't decide, but, oh, Severus, it's wonderful and terrible all at the same time, but you see..." _She loves me,_ he thought, his mouth quirking into a grin with a bitter twist as he turned his wand to point not at the ceiling, but as Ember's back. _She loves me and I am going to betray her, because I am the scum of the Earth, but she doesn't care about my past, and she won't care about what I'm about to do, but I can never come back to her after tonight, never, oh, Ember..._

"I just found out that I... I..." She was suddenly to afraid to speak, for fear of what he would say. Would he accept her declaration, want it? Want a… a baby? _Their_ baby? "Severus, I-"

"Ember?" His voice was muffled as he buried his face deeper in her thick, coppery hair and nuzzled her slender neck.

"Yes?"

"I love you," he said, and thought, _Stupefy_

"Now that that's over with," he said, adrenaline coursing through his veins, as he watched Ember being unconscious on his tiny green sofa, looking like the image of a sleeping angel, "I have a wizard to kill."

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Ophelia Onimous and Winter Ice Tostare, Ember's sister, watched from the curtained alcove in the Astronomy Tower as Draco Malfoy trembled so violently with fear that Ophelia was sure he would drop his wand. Ice flicked her blue eyes over to the raven haired beauty beside her and hissed softly in her ear, "Do something! They're _your_ people!" She shook her head helplessly, and Ice turned her gaze back to Draco and the four Death Eaters surrounding Professor Dumbledore. If Ophelia would do nothing, she, Winter Ice Tostare, would have to. Never mind that she could barely pull off a simple Shield Charm. She had to help Dumbledore.

Just then, Dumbledore's eye caught hers, and he shook his head ever so slightly. In her mind, his voice whispered, "**_Do nothing, Ice. Do nothing. There is nothing to be done._**" Ophelia grabbed her arm in a fierce grip when the door to the ramparts burst open once more and there stood Severus Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall to the four Death Eaters, including the enraged werewolf, and Malfoy.

As Severus scanned the room, he felt a niggling in the back of his mind. He immediately put up the walls of mental steel to keep out the psychic touch so like a burning flame. He didn't want _that_ one in his mind, not now.

"We've got a problem, Snape," said the lumpy Amycus, whose eyes and wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, the boy doesn't seem able-"

But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly. It nearly broke the two girls' hearts. Ophelia damned her father to hell, and Ice damned her sister's heart. The voice was like a gentle roar in their ears, like phoenix fire.

"Severus..."

The sound frightened the girls beyond anything they had experienced all evening, starting from being attacked by Fenrir Greyback. Dumbledore was begging Severus Snape.

Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Again there was that niggling in the back of his mind, the psychic fire slipping under his barriers to share his mind. He didn't want _that_ one here, not yet. He couldn't bear it.

Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. Hatred for what this man had made him, would make him, do in the name of the greater good.

"Severus... _please_..."

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. The psychic fire, now alert and frightened and angry, slammed into his mind, trying to find his soul at its center, and only his monumental self-control kept him from staggering. He had no time now to force the ember of witch fire out. It would share this brutal, merciless death with him. _Forgive me, my flame, my heart fire..._

"_Avada Kadavra!_"

A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Ice tried to scream, but it was smothered when Ophelia clapped a hand to her friend's mouth.

Severus nearly fainted when a voice in his mind cried out, "_Nooooo!_"And suddenly, the psychic fire was gone from Snape's thoughts, leaving his mind chilling cold and alone. In the dungeon, beside Hermione, Luna, and Flitwick, Ember's eyes snapped open and she shrieked once, terrifying both girls, before beginning to sob wretchedly.

They watched in silent horror, emerald eyes and pale blue eyes focused on the heart-breaking figure of their friend. For a split second, Dumbledore seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining emerald skull of the dark mark, and then he fell slowly backward, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.

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It was just then that, back in the Tower, Fenrir began sniffing at the curtains that hid the Ophelia and Ice.

Ice struggled not to whip out her wand and start hexing left and right. It would do her no good. _Let Ophelia handle it,_ her mind whispered. _These are Ophelia's people, she can protect you_.

"Mistress Ophelia?" Fenrir stared at the raven-haired, green eyed beauty in her robes of flowing white brocade silk, with her hair piled on top of her head but for a few strands escaping the style. The emerald and sapphire pendant around her throat flashed in the torchlight, its silver chain glinting in the light. The pendant with the SR intricately linked in its ambigram upon the surface of the green stone. Fenrir's eyes were caught on the stone.

"We're not here, Fenrir Greyback. Do you understand?" Ophelia hissed in a tone that brooked no argument. "You never saw either of us. Go now, about your tasks." Fenrir nodded and followed Snape, Draco, and the three Death Eaters out of the Astronomy Tower, followed swiftly, Ophelia saw, by none other than Harry Potter.

"Harry!"

He didn't turn, didn't acknowledge her at all. He sped after Snape.

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Harry Potter had just walked out of the Hospital Wing on the heels of McGonagall when Ember, sitting silently with the Weasley family, Hermione, Luna, Neville, some of the Order, Hagrid, and her sister and Ophelia, began silently to cry hot, bitter tears. She had never cried so often in her life before this night. Throughout the fight against Voldemorte and the Death Eaters, she had not shed a single tear. Now that Dumbledore was dead, Bill Weasley injured, McGonagall broken, and Severus gone, she was suddenly very, very tired and very, very sad. She could hold back nothing.

"I can't believe Sev- Snape would do something like that," Ember whispered, and everyone but Fleur Delacour and Mrs. Weasley turned to stare at her. "W-why would he... how could he... but he… he couldn't… Hagrid..." She whispered this last, her voice small and defeated, and though Hagrid looked as if the world was ending, he took Ember's small, slender white hand in his own and lifted her to her feet.

"Be back in a mo'," he said gruffly, and led Ember outside. He gave her his gray hankie, which she used to dry her tears. When she was calmer, he said, "Yeh didn' tell 'im, did yeh? 'E wouldn' a done tha' if'n he'd a known yeh was e'spectin'."

"He Stunned me before I had the chance. Took me forever to get it out of my stupid, fat mouth."

"Stunned yeh? Ta keep yeh from th' fightin', mos' like. Didn' have no 'arm ta tha' baby, did it?"

"No, no, the baby's fine," she said woodenly, her hand resting on her currently rather flat belly.

"Boy or girl?" Hagrid asked, a little frightened by the emotionlessness of her voice. She murmured brokenly, "A... a b-b-boy!" And she began sobbing again, clutching Hagrid's moleskin overcoat in her fists as she cried into his shirt. The half-giant of a man whispered soothingly, "There now, there now, tha's a goo' girl, i' 'll be alrigh, yeh'll see, there now. Shhh..."

"How! How! Hagrid, Severus is _gone!_ The man I love is gone, he's killed Dumbledore and fled into the dark with the Death Eaters! How is it going to be all right!" When she had grown calm once more, Hagrid asked tentatively, "So, eh, yeh got a name picked out?"

"Yes," she said. "Albric Embrus." Hagrid thought about that, remembering that Albric had been Ember's nickname for Dumbledore. He thought that was kind of fitting. It was a nice name, and he told her so. "Thank you, Hagrid."

"Does… _did_ Dumbledore know? Tha' yeh was e'spectin'? An' tha' yeh was gonna name the baby after 'im?"

"Yes. I told him at lunch."

"Yeh tol' me, yeh tol' Dumbledore, an' yeh didn' tell the _dad_?"

"I… I was working up to it. He'll find out eventually, though," she whispered, and she walked back into the Infirmary. Five steps more and she'd collapsed to the floor, her body ice cold and her eyelids fluttering madly as her face flushed with fever.

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**Next Chapter**

"I have two gifts for you and some advice. The advice is this: keep your lover closest to you, so that you may protect her. Do no push her away for her own sake. It is only more likely that she'll be hurt. Better that you keep her with you, like your two friends, Ron and Hermione. That is my advice to you, one green-eyed crow-headed half-blood to another." At this, she winked. Then, almost sadly, she slipped the ruby ring with its twin Gs off of her finger and held it out to him.

"Funerals are a drag, so here's something to cheer you up. My father gave this to me, to keep it safe. He figured that no one would think to see if I had it. Take it."

"W-why?"

"It's one of the thirteen Horcruxes of Lord Voldemorte, the signet ring of Godric Gryffindor."

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Much of the Snape killing Dumbledore scene is directly quoted from _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince._ With pieces of original stuff interspersed.

**Albric Embrus Albus + Wulfric and Ember + Severus**

First three letters of the first name, last three letters of the last name.

**Reviews are very much welcome and hoped for, be they praise or flames.**


	2. Funerals Are a Drag, So Here's Something

**Don't own jack, blah-blah, smoochie higgle duck. Whatever. Read and review please. It'll make my sister and me mucho very happy. Or is that redundant? Oh, and I especially want your opinions on Ophelia. 'Tis important. Thankies.**

**Chapter Two**

**Funerals Are a Drag, So Here's Something To Cheer You Up**

Harry was walking with Ron and Hermione, with Ginny trailing behind with Luna and Neville, when a woman with long, shimmering black hair walked up to him. "Harry Potter?" She held out her hand to shake.

"Yeah," he replied, shaking her hand. It was small and slim, but beneath the lily-soft skin was a strange, iron strength. He stared at her hand for a moment, his eyes catching on a ruby ring with a intertwined, golden GG on its great surface. When he caught himself and raised his eyes to meet the woman's, he nearly had a heart attack. It was like looking into a mirror. Her eyes were the same brilliant emerald green as his, as Lily (Evans) Potter's and Petunia (Evans) Dursley's. The Evans eyes. Was she a relative?

"May I speak to you for a moment? In private," she added. Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, who nodded at him.

"We'll wait for you, Harry," Hermione murmured, and turned to speak to Ron.

The strange woman with the long, glistening black hair and Evans' eyes guided Harry back towards the White Tomb of Dumbledore, where the woman stared off into space for a few minutes, her eyes gone hard and glacial. Harry had seen such an icy green in his aunt's face when she made allusions to magic and wizards.

After a few moments, the woman murmured, "You're probably wondering who I am. My name is Ophelia."

_Got a last name that goes with that?_ Harry wondered, but didn't say anything. Ophelia went on, "I have two gifts for you and some advice. The advice is this: keep your lover closest to you, so that you may protect her. Do no push her away for her own sake. It is only more likely that she'll be hurt. Better that you keep her with you, like your two friends, Ron and Hermione. That is my advice to you, one green-eyed crow-headed half-blood to another." At this, she winked. Then, almost sadly, she slipped the ruby ring with its twin Gs off of her finger and held it out to him.

"Funerals are a drag, so here's something to cheer you up. My father gave this to me, to keep it safe. He figured that no one would think to see if I had it. Take it."

"W-why?"

"It is one of the thirteen Horcruxes of Lord Voldemorte, the signet ring of Godric Gryffindor."

It was about this time that Harry Potter's synapses all began firing at once. Here was a half-blooded witch, with the Evans' eyes and James Potter's thick, black hair, offering him the signet ring of Gryffindor, which was supposed to be one of Voldemorte's Horcruxes. Not only that, but she claimed there were not seven, but thirteen of them.

"Who... who are you?"

"Ophelia. And a friend. That is all you will get from me."

"There are only seven Horcruxes."

"Speak of this to the triad of mortal goddesses, and they will tell you that there ought to be thirteen." Harry blinked, trying to avoid confusion. "Your three lady friends should also know the answer."

"If... if there are thirteen, how am I supposed to destroy all of them?" Ophelia smiled and slung her arm around Harry's shoulder. If it had been someone else, it would have pissed him off, but for some reason when Ophelia did it he didn't much mind. It actually felt kind of nice.

"Do not forget, you have destroyed two- the ring of Slytherin and the diary of Tom Riddle. That is now eleven. I have given you a third, the ring of Gryffindor. That is ten. You have in your possession three others, left to you along with a ratty little house elf, a very handsome hippogriff, and a lovely house. That is seven. I have myself another, though I cannot part with it just yet. That is six. One is Voldemorte himself, and the other is his serpent. That is four. So, Harry, you need only quest for, find, and destroy four Horcruxes. Three, if you guess right."

"If I guess right?" Harry echoed, bewildered. Ophelia smiled.

"Forgive me for speaking in such a roundabout way. I can't actually tell you what the ones that I don't have are. There's an enchantment on them. So sorry, dear. Suffice to say, you have access to four of them, two of which thanks to your ratty little house elf, who's kept them stashed in a faintly sinister jewelry box with a dead ballerina in it. Offers up a lethal little lullaby if your not careful. I'm sure you know the one I mean. Found it before Padfoot died. Ah, Padfoot. Regulus was my favorite of the two, but I liked Sirius well enough. Good man, that one. Anyway, dear, I must be off. My father didn't approve of me coming to the funeral. But before I go, I thought you might want this back." She slipped her arm off his shoulder and a hand into the pocket of her black robes, pulling out something Harry didn't think he'd ever see again in his life.

"My pocket knife!" It was the knife that Sirius had given him, that had melted in his fifth year. Yet here it was, whole and gleaming as if it had been polished before Ophelia had given it back to him. "How did you-"

"Don't you read fairy tales? Never ask where the three gifts come from, just accept them and keep them handy. Damn. Here, let's see, that was the second gift... do I have anything else for you... ah!" She pulled from her other pocket- a much larger one- a small book. "This, my dove, is a book of poetry. Now, I have it on good authority (so don't go rushing off to the train yet) that Dumbledore left you something in his will, which Minerva's coming over here just this minute to give you. Whoops, better hurry. Anyway, some of that something are notes. Order of the Phoenix reports and such. This book will help you decode it. Use the summer for weddings of your friends brothers, personal romances, and learning codes so that later, you and your DA busters can turn yourselves into the new Order. Toodles, my little chicken. Enjoy the summer. Wait till term before you go Horcrux hunting, all right?" She'd been backing away towards the forbidden forest, grinning and skipping backwards as she watched him and waved. "Yours sincerely," she cried, doing a rather fabulously executed cartwheel. It revealed a pair of faded blue jeans and two tennis shoes, one purple and one white. The white one had the word "Remember" in black marker. The purple one had "Dumbledore" done in what looked like white paint.

"Yours truly, Ophelia!" She called, and disappeared into the Forbidden Forest just as McGonnagal put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Come with me, Potter. There are things we need to discuss before you return home."

Harry turned back just once, to see if Ophelia was watching. He thought he might have seeh her just as he was walking under the arch of entryway, but he could be sure.

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**Next Chapter**

1.5"1.21"1.33"1.36"1.52"2.19"2.21"2.282.41"2.50"3.22"3.23 "3.36"4.7"4.13"4.14"4.20"5.48"6.1"6.16"6.13"6.32"6.33"6.35"-8.4"8.6"8.7"8.16"8.37"8.42"8.52"9.1"8.29.9"9.15"9.26"9.30"10.9"

10.25"10.31"10.33"13.5"12.6"13.17"13.36"14.2"14.12"15.14"15.15"

16.18"16.19"16.39"17.1"18.1"18.6"

Omniscient-Gamma50116-Baudelaire

"Sir," said Harry, flexing a cramp from his wrist. "What does that mean?"

"When you are at the Burrow, look inside the box of papers. There is a folder, the Baudelaire folder. It is very big, and spans almost sixteen years. You will find, if you look in the 50-section, that message in its code. You must decode it, Harry. That is why Ophelia gave you the book, remember? To decode those papers. Trust no one with that information except the Weasleys, Miss Granger, the Longbottoms, and the Lovegoods, and those whom they believe can be trusted. And I mean no one. No adults."

"Tonks."

"No, not even her, I think. Good bye, Harry. I shan't see you soon, but I shall see you. Oh, and when I said the Gryffindor sword, lying safe in its case, was not a Horcrux? I was wrong."

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Read and review, please, thank you! Corrections, ideas, praise, flames, all welcome. No cussing, though, please.


	3. Will, Numbers, Paper, & the Stolen Sword

**Chapter Three**

**The Will, the Papers, the Numbers, and the Stolen Sword**

Dumbledore's office was even more different than when Harry had been inside it the night before. Everything was swathed in black velvet, the clocks and mirrors were covered with thin, black silk cloths, and the only thing that was not gloomy, was not strange and alien to Harry, was the portrait of Dumbledore hanging near what was once Fawkes's perch. The portrait looked up from a book that had been painted in the portrait and smiled.

"Ah, Harry. Professor McGonagall, if you would be kind enough to excuse us?" McGonagall smiled, her face somewhat pinched, and left the room. The portrait smiled down at Harry. "Pray, take my chair. I shan't be needing it." As Harry made himself comfortable, unsure as to how he should feel, he fidgeted with the ruby ring and the little book of poetry. "Ah," said Dumbledore's portrait, eyeing both the jewelry and the literature. "I see Ophelia has spoken with you."

Harry sat up a little straighter, his mind racing. "You know her? Who is she? How did she get Sirius's knife back for me? How do you know her? Why does she look so familiar? Why are her eyes the same color as mine? And why-"

"Slow down, Harry, gracious. All in good time, all in good time. Green eyes aren't that unusual, you know. Several people have green eyes. Why, Miss Granger-"

"Mione's eyes are hazel," Harry stated flatly.

"Well, all right. Yes, I know Ophelia. She is one of our top spies for the Order. As for how she retrieved Sirius's knife, it is a secret, and not my secret to tell. I know her because I am well acquainted with her mother and father. She has been helping us since she reached the age of twelve. My, that was a long time ago.

"Ophelia is a gifted witch, a half-blood like yourself. She can be a little wild at times, but in a fix, there are few I would rather have protecting my back."

At these words, a strange, leaden feeling swamped Harry, and he gasped as it weighed down on his chest. "But she didn't… she didn't protect you."

"That is because I told her not to. I also told another young woman, Winter Ice Tostare, not to help me, because there was nothing she could do. I didn't bother telling Winter's sister, Ember, because she wouldn't have helped me, anyway."

"Why not?" Harry demanded furiously. "Why wouldn't she?"

"Harry, I would not and do not expect that a pregnant woman whose only concerns should be for her baby and herself to go gallivanting off to protect one old wizard. Ember's involvement would have made things much, much worse for everyone. As it was, I couldn't stop her from entering Snape's mind as he prepared to hit me with the Avada Kadavra curse. I can tell you, that moment may have broken her spirit forever. She collapsed maybe ten minutes after you left the Wing with Professor McGonagall. Even now, Madame Pomfrey is tending to her in the Hospital Wing, desperately trying to stave off what looks like will become a bout of delirium."

"Definitely not good for a baby," Harry muttered.

"Indeed not," said the portrait.

"How old are they?" Harry asked suddenly. He wanted to know if they were young, like him.

"Ophelia is a year and a few months older than you. Ice-she prefers going by her middle name- is eighteen years old. Ember is eight years her senior, despite the fact that they are twins." Harry tried to process that and couldn't quite manage it. "Ember used a time turned to be three different places at once for the last four years of her schooling. Thus, in those four years, she aged twelve. She looks great for her age, still very young looking. Minerva has often asked for her secret, as even I don't know how she manages it….

"Now, others are one their way, others less friendly to our cause. I want you to do something for me before they get here. Do you see that large bin of papers and things? Shrink it down and put in the pocket of your robe. The Gryffindor ring as well." Harry slipped the ring into his pocket, pulled out his wand, pointed it at the large, cardboard box full of stacks and stacks of papers, and muttered, "_Reducto!_" The box shrank, and Harry put it in his pocket.

"Now, Harry, take that piece of parchment and that quill there. I need you to write down a series of numbers and such. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. The series was as follows:

1.5"1.21"1.33"1.36"1.52"2.19"2.21"2.282.41"2.50"3.22"3.23 "3.36"4.7"4.13"4.14"4.20"5.48"6.1"6.16"6.13"6.32"6.33"6.35"-8.4"8.6"8.7"8.16"8.37"8.42"8.52"9.1"8.29.9"9.15"9.26"9.30"10.9"

10.25"10.31"10.33"13.5"12.6"13.17"13.36"14.2"14.12"15.14"15.15"

16.18"16.19"16.39"17.1"18.1"18.6"

Omniscient-Gamma50116-Baudelaire

"Sir," said Harry, flexing a cramp from his wrist. "What does that mean?"

"When you are at the Burrow, look inside the box of papers. There is a folder, the Baudelaire folder. It is very big, and spans almost sixteen years. You will find, if you look in the 50-section, that message in its code. You must decode it, Harry. That is why Ophelia gave you the book, remember? To decode those papers. Trust no one with that information except the Weasleys, Miss Granger, the Longbottoms, and the Lovegoods, and those whom they believe can be trusted. And I mean no one. No adults."

"Tonks."

"No, not even her, I think. Good bye, Harry. I shan't see you soon, but I shall see you. Oh, and when I said the Gryffindor sword, lying safe in its case, was not a Horcrux? I was wrong. Voldemorte has stolen the sword, and left no clue as to where he has hidden it. That is all I can say for now. Good bye, Harry. Keep your friends and loved ones close to you. Don't try to protect them, merely try to love them.

"One last thing before you go. Write this down as well, to give to the woman you plan on visiting." How had Dumbledore known? "I have my ways." After Harry had written down the message, the portrait said, "Any information you have on Professor Snape, Harry, must remain with you, and only with you. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded jerkily.

"Good man. Good bye, Harry."

"Good bye, Professor," Harry whispered, sick at heart over the loss of the sword and the death of the headmaster. He wanted to do one more thing before he left for the train- he had about half an hour- and then he would go back to the Dursleys.

He wondered if Ophelia would be waiting for him.

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**Next Chapter**

"Because it's Snape's baby, isn't it?"

"And just how do you know that, young Potter?"

"I can add two and two."

"So can the Ministry, Harry," she whispered, her voice weak, but Harry heard the trace of fear in it. He blinked, crying, "What do you mean?"

"If it becomes common knowledge to any besides Hogwarts staff who fathered my baby, the Ministry will use me as bait for him." Harry almost said, "Good, I hope they do," then thought of Umbridge and Scrimgeour, who seemed to have no scruples and wouldn't hesitate to throw a pregnant woman into Azkaban. Ember had done Harry no harm. Her baby had certainly done no harm to anyone.

"I have reasons to see Snape caught," he said carefully. Ember turned her eyes on Harry again, and they were a brilliant gold.

"No you don't, as soon as you check _Omniscient-Gamma-five-oh-one-one-six-Baudelaire_ and the rest of the Baudelaire Five-Oh file." Ember's voice was sure and steady, but Harry saw the desperate hope in her eyes.

"H-how do you know about that?"

"I work for Dumbledore. Have for years. He trusts me."

"He trusted Snape, too."

"With good reason, as you'll soon discover."

"I know why Dumbledore thought Snape was his man-" Ember interrupted with, "Pray forgive my rudeness, but no you don't. You think you do, but remorse over your parents' deaths is not the reason. I know the reason, Snape knows the reason, and Dumbledore knows the reason. Soon you will, too. Read the damn file before you pass anymore judgment."

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**Don't own anything, blah blah, read and review, please, thank you.**


	4. Poetic Goodbye

**Chapter Four**

**Poetic Goodbye**

Ember lay abed in the Hospital Wing, her eyes glittering oddly, her cheeks flushed with fever. She moaned and called out quietly for Severus Snape, and Harry's blood went cold. Dumbledore's portrait had mentioned she was pregnant. Surely he couldn't mean pregnant with Snape's child.

"Are you sure, dear? You might be wasting your time." Madame Pomfrey was watching from where she sat doing last minute paperwork for the school's files.

"I'm sure. Are you Ember?" He asked the copper-haired woman lying half-delirious in the hospital bed. He hovered just outside her peripheral vision, and she didn't have the strength to turn her head to the side. She murmured, her voice cracking slightly, "I am. Who are you?"

"Harry Potter."

"Ah."

"I'm a friend of Ophelia's." At the sound of the girl's name, Ember's eyes cleared a little, burning with a gentle, blue fire, and her cheeks paled from her feverish flush. Harry stared at the young woman hard, her copper hair like liquid flame, her ivory voice devoid of the freckles so common with red hair, her slender jaw, her limp body, and her rather flat stomach.

"Are you really pregnant?"

"Yes."

"How pregnant?"

"Seven weeks."

"When will it be born?"

"March, on the Equinox. Why are you so curious?"

"Because it's Snape's baby, isn't it?"

"And just how do you know that, young Potter?"

"I can add two and two."

"So can the Ministry, Harry," she whispered, her voice weak, but Harry heard the trace of fear in it. He blinked, crying, "What do you mean?"

"If it becomes common knowledge to any besides Hogwarts staff who fathered my baby, the Ministry will use me as bait for him." Harry almost said, "Good, I hope they do," then thought of Umbridge and Scrimgouer, who seemed to have no scruples and wouldn't hesitate to throw a pregnant woman into Azkaban. Ember had done Harry no harm. Her baby had certainly done no harm to anyone.

"I have reasons to see Snape caught," he said carefully. Ember turned her eyes on Harry again, and they were a brilliant gold.

"No you don't, as soon as you check _Omniscient-Gamma-five-oh-one-one-six-Baudelaire_ and the rest of the Baudelaire Five-Oh file."

"H-how do you know about that?"

"I work for Dumbledore. Have for years. He trusts me."

"He trusted Snape, too."

"With good reason, as you'll soon discover."

"I know why Dumbledore thought Snape was his man-" Ember interrupted with, "Pray forgive my rudeness, but no you don't. You think you do, but remorse over your parents' deaths is not the reason. I know the reason, Snape knows the reason, and Dumbledore knows the reason. Soon you will, too. Read the damn file before you pass anymore judgment. I'd say on the train, but Blaise and the other baby Death Eaters are there. So too may be Rita Skeeter, and this I do not want published. So wait until you have gone to the… no… no, I've a better idea.

"Ophelia will be waiting for you when you return home. Take the two youngest Weasleys and your DA friends, and look through the file at your home. Voldemorte cannot reach you there until you have turned seventeen. That gives you a month and a few days. I will send you anything that may prove useful. Will you take my advice?"

Harry thought about it for a minute, then nodded. "Yes. If I can. Any help you have to give would be great."

"I'd speak more to you, but I'm very tired. I'll see you soon, no doubt. Good bye, Harry Potter."

"Good b- oh! Professor Dumbledore's portrait told me to give this to you." He handed her a piece of parchment, which read:

Introduction 47L

To Helen at Six

Israfel and the Answer to Everything

To One in Paradise, 12 and 29

The Bell rings at 3:22

Ode to the Daughter of the Time on Friday 13th

Introduction 18L

Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres

See Helen Whitman at Lousy Lane

When Ember saw it, her eyes filled up with tears. "What is it?" Harry cried, shocked. She wiped her hand across her eyes and whispered, "Severus's goodbye."

"I don't understand."

"Dumbledore knew to give this to me if something ever happened to Severus."

"What does it mean?"

"It means

_Introduction_, line forty-seven-

**G**one are the glory and the gloom

_To Helen_, line six-

**O**n desperate seas long wont to roam

_Israfel_, line forty-two-

**O**ur flowers are merely flowers and the shadows of thy perfect bliss

_To One in Paradise_, line twelve-

(**D**im gulf!) My spirit hovering lies

And line twenty-nine-

**B**y the buried centuries of pomp and power

_The Bells_, part three, line twenty-two-

**Y**et the ear, it fully knows

_Sonnet to Science_, line thirteen-

**E**lfin from the green, green grass, and from me

_Introduction_, line eighteen-

**L**ight on the lightning's silver wing

_To Helen_-

**U**pon those crystalline spheres

_To Helen Whitman_, the last line-

**V**enuses extinguished by the sun.

"It makes an acrostic, spelling 'goodbye, luv.' Severus loves poetry, especially Edgar Allen Poe. Now, Harry, the train leaves in ten minutes. Better get going." As he reached the door, his mind buzzing, she called, "Harry? Thank you for giving me this message. Thank you so much."

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**Next Chapter**

Night had begun to fall, and many of the DA had fallen asleep when Echo crawled between Susan and Parvati to join Harry and his four closest friends.

"Harry? I have a specialty." Her voice was very soft, so soft that Harry had to lean in to hear her. "I'm good at Dark Magic." Her face was chalk white as she told him, and she trembled as if she were cold. "I'm good at creating offensive spells. I don't mean innocent things, like Jelly Legs or the Body Bind. I mean, things like… like… like _sectumsempra_. I can come up with… something like that. If you want me to."

Harry stared at the youngest Malfoy, the fairest girl he had ever seen. She was only eleven years old, yet she had a talent he could use. It was also something that might make Harry not trust her. Ginny spoke for her, Hannah Abbot and Luna spoke for her, but still… could he trust her? Would it be too much of a temptation for a Malfoy?

"Can I trust you?" Harry asked. There were tears in Echo's eyes, but she nodded, crying, "I want to help. I… Dumbledore was nice to me, even when no one else was 'cause I was a Malfoy. And Voldemort… Voldemort made my Mummy cry, and Draco. I love Draco, Harry, and Voldemorte hurt him. He gave my brother the Dark Mark and made him cry. He's gotta pay for that. He's ruined my family, and he had Dumbledore killed. I wanna help make him pay." Harry nodded. Good enough.

"Then I trust you with this," and he told her what he wanted of her.

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**Read and review, please. It would make my day. Is the story really that bad?**


	5. Plans on the Hogwarts Express

**Okay, here is ch5. can I have some reviews, please? They make me glad! This introduces a few new characters and some old ones, but this is a long fic, so they'll get their text time. R and R, please!**

**Also, anything you would like to see in this fic, I take suggestions, unless they directly conflict with anything IMPORTANT that I might have planned. I do take most suggestions and use them, though, and I'll credit you. Thankies!**

**Chapter Five**

**Plans On the Hogwarts Express**

The trolley woman was dressed in a lovely, black velvet dress when she came by the nearly empty compartment where Harry James Potter slumped against the crushed, crimson velvet seat. He was flipping through the numerous poems in the little book Ophelia had given him, reading one or two every few often. When the door opened, Harry looked up and saw it was the kind, gentle lady who pushed the cart.

"Do you want anything from the trolley, dear?" She smiled gently at him, and Harry felt a thrill of joy. He didn't know why at first, but then realized: here was something familiar, something safe. He was never going to see the trolley woman again. He felt a deep sense of loss when he realized that. He wasn't coming back for his seventh year. He wouldn't be seeing any of that again. He suddenly had the urge to start crying, or to hug the old woman.

What was the first thing he'd ever said to this woman?  
"We'll take the lot," he said, and gave her the money. Cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, chewing gum and jelly beans, licorice wands, sugar quills and Honeydukes chocolate, all of it was given to Harry, who set the sweets on the seat beside him and embraced the trolley woman.

"Well, what's that for, dear?"

"I'm not coming back next year," he said, "and you've been the trolley woman since I started here at Hogwarts. So I thought I'd say goodbye." When he said this, the woman's eyes filled with tears.

"I know you, Harry Potter. I know what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wants of you. You and your lot, your friends, you're good ones, you are. You'll do what's right, but try to be careful when you do it, and don't you forget about old Bertie." With that, she left the compartment, pushing her rattling cart.

"What was that, Harry?" Harry jumped and saw that Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Luna, even Neville, were all standing outside the door to his compartment. Ginny was the one who'd asked the question. Hermione murmured, "Harry just hugged Bertie Bott, of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans."

"Bertie Bott is the trolley woman?" Ron cried. Hermione just pushed him through the door into the compartment, and everyone filed in behind him. Harry sat back and tossed each of them a cauldron cake.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door, and a few others came inside. One of them was Ernie McMillan. Others were the Patil twins, and Lavender Brown, and the Creevy brothers. Susan Bones was there, and Harry recognized the hard, blazing look on her face as one that Ginny had often worn. Katie Bell was also there, clutching her Gryffindor Quidditch uniform to her chest. Hannah Abbot slipped in with four youngsters in their first year, two of whom, twins, looked disturbingly like Luna Lovegood. Another girl, the only sixth year besides Hannah, looked like Neville. The other looked disgustingly like Draco Malfoy.

"Who's she?" Ron demanded harshly, glaring at the girl who looked like a Malfoy. She threw her head back and regarded him with warm, gentle gray eyes. Ginny answered him with, "Lilith 'Echo' Malfoy. She's Malfoy's sister."

"What's she doing here?" Harry asked tonelessly. Ginny hadn't sounded angry or disturbed, but rather, very pleased. The red haired girl said, "I invited her. She's proved herself through the year. Besides, she's a Gryffindor. There's no way she could've fooled the Sorting Hat. Here, Echo, sit with me."

The girl sat on the floor beside Ginny, resting a head on the other girl's shoulder. Although Ron looked disgruntled, the others sat down and looked up at Harry. The "chosen one" blinked and said, "What's going on?"

"Dumbledore's Army is ready for war, Harry," the girl who looked like Neville said. She was seated below Neville on the floor, with an arm around his knees. She held out a hand to him. "Alice Longbottom the second, of Ravenclaw, at your service. Neville's my twin brother."

"She got all the brains," Neville muttered, glaring at his sister, but his mouth was quirking into a smile. Alice slapped Neville's knees and said, "Oh, shut up. I'm only good at making things."

"What are you lot expecting to happen? I'm not coming back next year, I won't be able to help you-"

"Exactly," Echo said. "You won't be here. Hermione and Ron, neither, I'm guessing. We need to be prepared to defend Hogwarts without you. The DA is needed now more than ever, Harry. We have the summer to become an organized force. We need to take advantage of that. You think Voldemorte is going to leave Hogwarts alone now that Dumbledore… now that…."

"Now that Dumbledore is dead," Susan Bones said, her fist clenched so tight her knuckles were mottled, "Voldemorte won't hesitate to attack the school. That's why they need us _now_. We are… we are…."

"The school's Patronus," said one of the girls that looked like Luna. "The word patronus is Latin, it means protector. The Order of the Phoenix people are being picked off one by one. Auntie Emmaline, Susan's auntie, Amelia. But Voldemorte wouldn't expect a defense of us." At Harry's look, she said, "Lucinda Lovegood, of Ravenclaw. Screw-Lucy, they call me."

"Even better, once confronted with us, he and his will underestimate us unto the end," Echo added onto Lucinda's original thought. "We're small, we're kids, we're inexperienced. They won't think we're a threat. But each Witch and Wizard has a particular talent, something they're good at. Harry, you're good at Defense. Hermione, you're a researcher. Neville, you're good at Herbology, right? Alice told me. Alice, you're good at making things. Every one of us has _some_thing. We can all be of use. We just have to figure out how. We have two months-"

"Invisibility cloaks," Hermione said suddenly. She looked at Alice. "You're good at making things. What kinds of things?"

"Clothes. Capes, cloaks, jackets, shirts-"

"Cloaks? How many?"

"It depends. I'm a stitch witch. Thread and cloth is my specialty. If it's pure ambient magic you want, I can make… thirty in a week. Why?"

"We need three things," Harry said suddenly, and they all set to planning. Night had begun to fall, and many of the DA had fallen asleep when Echo crawled between Susan and Parvati to join Harry and his four closest friends.

"Harry? I have a specialty." Her voice was very soft, so soft that Harry had to lean in to hear her. "I'm good at Dark Magic." Her face was chalk white as she told him, and she trembled as if she were cold. "I'm good at creating offensive spells. I don't mean innocent things, like Jelly Legs or the Body Bind. I mean, things like… like… like _sectumsempra_. I can come up with… something like that. If you want me to."

Harry stared at the youngest Malfoy, the fairest girl he had ever seen. She was only eleven years old, yet she had a talent he could use. It was also something that might make Harry not trust her. Ginny spoke for her, Hannah Abbot and Luna spoke for her, but still… could he trust her? Would it be too much of a temptation for a Malfoy?

"Can I trust you?" Harry asked. There were tears in Echo's eyes, but she nodded, crying, "I want to help. I… Dumbledore was nice to me, even when no one else was 'cause I was a Malfoy. And Voldemorte… Voldemorte made my Mummy cry, and Draco. I love Draco, Harry, and Voldemorte hurt him. He gave my brother the Dark Mark and made him cry. He's gotta pay for that. He's ruined my family, and he had Dumbledore killed. I wanna help make him pay." Harry nodded. Good enough.

"Then I trust you with this," and he told her what he wanted of her. She nodded once and pulled a spiral notebook and a ballpoint pen from her pocket, and set to writing.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Harry?" Ron was watching Echo with intense dislike. "She's a Malfoy-"

"And that's why I trust her. She thinks Voldemorte has destroyed the happiness she's had with her family. Her father's in Azkaban, her mother's obviously upset about it all, and now her brother's a Death Eater, apparently against his will. Wouldn't you be a little pissed off? Ginny, I need to talk to you." Leaving Ron eyeing Echo, who was nodding off over her work, Ginny and Harry walked out into the walkway.

"Wotcher, Harry?"

"Remember I said I couldn't be with you anymore?" Ginny nodded, and Harry was distracted by the way the moon filtered through the windows and touched on Ginny's soft, pale skin. She looked like… like a goddess. "Well, I… I've been informed that I was wrong. Ophelia-"

"Who's Ophelia?"

"Someone who knows Dumbledore, someone who worked for him. She came to see me after the funeral and told me I was being an idiot. She made me realize that it would be easier to protect you- for us to protect each other- if we're together. So… so-"

"So you take it back?" She asked, slipping her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. He grinned.

"Yeah, I take it back," and he kissed her, losing himself in her for the first time in days. When they came up for air, he said, "I sincerely take it back."


	6. Deadly Detour

**Chapter Six**

**Deadly Detour**

Ember was putting on her shoes when Professor McGonagall walked into the Hospital Wing. Ember did her best to ignore her as she laced up her green, leather knee-highs and tied the laces in bows. She brushed out her copper curls, which had begun to darken back to red.

"Ember-"

"Minerva, I desperately need to redo my hi-lights. My hair's turning red again."

"If you didn't use that cheap dye that comes in a can and rubs off-"

"I can't afford anything better. What can I do for you?"

"Poppy says you're still ill." McGonagall sat down on the cot next to Ember's and watched the younger woman as she slipped on a pale green shirt and buttoned it up, her hands shaking. "You're trembling, and you're deathly pale."

"I need to go outside is all. You know I detest being indoors. I want to go home. I have no reason to stay at Hogwarts now, until summer ends. So I'm going home."

"To America?" Minerva exclaimed. That was hardly the thing. A vacation in the English countryside would do the girl better, the older woman thought.

"No, not to America. I can't afford the plane ride. Back to Spinners' End. Don't try to stop me, Minerva!" Ember's eyes flashed gold in the light of the late afternoon sun filtering through the windows. "Spinners' End is my home, just as Hogwarts is my home. I've lived at the End every moment I've been away from the school. I belong there."

"Ember," McGonagall said gently, "Severus won't be waiting for you there."

"Oh, I shan't expect it. I merely wish to return home. Dumbledore wouldn't try to stop me." Minerva's eyes were bright with worry, but she nodded to the girl, who stood up and grabbed her emerald cloak from the table, whirling it in a shimmer of green around her shoulders and tying it about her slender, white neck. Minerva could not believe how pretty the girl looked, nor how sad. She grabbed her wand from the bedside table and began striding towards the exit.

"Ember, dear, Dumbledore wishes to speak with you-"

"His portrait wishes to speak with me. Very well, then. As for my things-"

"Oh, Miss Ember, miss," said a squeaky voice, and Ember glanced down to see Dobby the house elf struggling to keep up with her long stride. She immediately slowed. "Miss Ember, Dobby sends Miss Ember's things to her home with Master of Potions. Floo powder is ready for miss now."

"Thank you, Dobby," Ember said, smiling down at him. Her smile suddenly slipped. "Dobby, did you remember to save-"

"Fire birdie sparkly? Yes, indeed, Miss Ember. Dobby has it here!" The house elf held up a gold chain, upon which dangled six tiny rubies and a perfect amber teardrop. Ember took it from Dobby and clasped it, with some difficulty, around her neck.

"Thank you, dear. Ah, here we are." The gargoyle in front of the staircase growled. "What is your issue with house elves? Damn."

"Password," it growled. She hissed at it like a cat and snapped, "I know! Password is _the_ _heir of Gryffindor_." It shuffled aside with much reluctance, and Ember cried, "You never do that to students."

"Students don't have pinch-worthy bums."

"Keep your claws away from my ass."

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"Ah, Ember. I heard you were in the Hospital Wing." Dumbledore's portrait smiled at the fiery haired girl as she sat down on the top of the black-swathed desk. He set his spectacles back on his nose and watched her with his twinkling, blue eyes. "You are feeling better, I trust?"

"Poppy says I'm to expect morning sickness soon. She said it was only delayed because of Fawkes's presence so close, and that it'll come soon enough. I am not looking forward to it."

"Most women don't look forward to being ill."

"I certainly _do not_ look forward to tossing my cookies every morning, thank you." Ember crossed her arms defensively over her belly, looking faintly sick. She scrunched up in on herself and whispered, "What am I going to do, Albric?"

"I always did like it when you called me that, and it does me honor you would name your son after me. As for what you're going to do, you will go through this next year as Potions Mistress and head of Gryffindor until you must take your leave. You will have your son, and raise him with Severus, and you will both live as long as you are meant to and be as happy as you can be in that time. That is what you will do.

"Head of Gryffindor? Me?"

"We'll be needing another, now that Minerva is Headmistress."

"And… raising my son… with S-Severus? But I thought… but he… Albric, I don't understand, he _killed_ you. He murdered you. He's the enemy…." She fell silent when Dumbledore shook his head slowly, a gentle smile on his wizened face.

"Ember, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Severus Snape is a good man, a _great_ man, who has given up more than most in the effort to defeat Voldemort. He killed me, but higher powers forced his hand. And Ember," for she was suddenly aware that tears were streaming down her cheeks again, for she knew just what Dumbledore was going to say, "Severus Snape loves you more than anything else in the world. He loves you deeply, and you two are destined to be together. Never lose faith in him. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She nodded, and found her tears had stopped. Where had they come from?

"Good, now. I do believe you need to return to Spinner's End. However, do not stay there very long. Danger lurks there. It will do you good to be there for a while, though, I think. Goodbye, Ember."

"Goodbye… old man." She grinned as he followed her out the door with a laughing, "Watch that cheek, young lady."

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Narcissa Malfoy watched as green light flashed through the bottom floor of Spinners' End, and then marched up to the door, barging in with out knocking.

"_Protego!_"

"Em, it's _me!_" Ember lowered her wand and stared at Narcissa for a long moment, her legs shaking, before sinking down onto the rather threadbare sofa. Narcissa rushed to her side and sat down beside her, drawing the red-haired girl into her arms. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I… yes. Is Draco back with you?"

"Yes, he's come back, and he's safe. Severus kept his promise." Ember whimpered. "I know you are not a Death Eater-"

"Neither are you, Issy. You've changed since the old days, and changed again. You were a good woman once, and then you met Lucius."

"I love Lucius-"

"I know you do, Issy. But you also love your son, even more than your husband. For Draco's sake, you're better off turning your back on the Death Eaters. Issy?" Narcissa turned her face away as Ember looked deep into her pretty blue eyes. "Issy, look at me. We were friends once, good friends. Then _he_ came into your life, knocked you up, and twisted your life-"

"He gave me Draco. He gave me my son!"

"And his influence is what will give the Darkest wizard of all time the ability to get your son killed! Issy, listen. I know how you're feeling. I have a child of mine own to think of. You must do what is best for your son, and that is to keep him far, far away from Voldemort." Narcissa sighed and pulled Ember's head down on her shoulder. The younger woman sighed and relaxed in Narcissa's hold.

"Don't think I'm not thinking about what you're saying. But I noticed something you just said, dearest, don't think I didn't, either." Ember swore under her breath. "Didn't think I'd notice, did you? Congratulations. Severus's, I presume?" She nodded. "Spitfire, you shouldn't be so ill looking. You look like hell."

"Tell me how you really feel, Issy, don't hold back."

"All right, you look like shit."

"Bite me."

"What's wrong with you, dearest? Why are you so ill?" Embrus shrugged and got to her feet, looking pale. Narcissa put a hand on her arm and jerked in surprise. "Em, you're freezing! You're really sick, aren't you? What is it? What's wrong?" Ember sank down onto the floor, shivering violently, shaking her head. Narcissa got to her feet, suddenly very much afraid. Ember lifted a hand, and the older woman lifted her to her feet. "Em, what's wrong?"

"I'll be all right. I just need to sleep. Can you take me upstairs, Narcissa? I'm exhausted."

"All right," she said, stroking the girl's hair. "All right, Em."

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Tucked safely into bed, snuggled under the thick, black blankets, Ember was out cold. Her skin was still icy to the touch, but she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Narcissa sat in a chair beside the bed, reading one of Draco's letters from his first year Hogwarts, when Snape walked in.

"What is she doing here?" He hissed angrily at Narcissa, who stuck her tongue out at him and snapped, "She was exhausted, and she feels safe here. Can't think why, with Wormtail sneaking around all the time. I put her to bed, she's ice cold. What happens when her kind breeds with one of _yours_."

Severus stared at Draco Malfoy's mother for a long moment, taking in the flashing, blue-gray eyes and the long, silvery hair like a veela's. He turned to Ember's sleeping form, then back to Narcissa.

"She's pregnant, isn't she?"

"Caught on, have you?" The blond woman wasn't in the mood to be charitable. Severus winced and sat down on the side of the bed, one arm on Ember's other side, supporting his weight. He looked down at her, seeing a white-faced, copper-haired angel with thick, shimmering golden lashes making crescents on her cheeks. He bent down and gently kissed her lips.

"Pregnant. Pregnant. She's carrying my child."

"Of course you'll have to kill her."

"Narcissa-"

"Joking, joking! For Christ's sake, Severus." Snape just looked at her. "Fine. What do you plan to do about this?"

"I can't marry her, Narcissa, you know I can't. That's no life for her, always on the run from the law. She'd be miserable. She has a career ahead of her, a life. I can't marry her." Narcissa watched him tenderly brush Ember's hair back from her forehead. He was staring down at her with such a gentle, loving expression. He was oblivious to Narcissa's gaze.

"Severus, it's your baby."

"I know," he whispered. "I know that."

"She'll be going back to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, for the Potions position. She was going to take my place after Slughorn left, after we'd worked together as Potions Master and Mistress for a term or so. She'll be on her own now, with a baby. I'm such a stupid bastard." This last he said bitterly and with much self-loathing. Ember stirred and brushed a hand against her face, scrubbing her cheek in that child-like way she had. She rolled over and settled back down, clutching the blanket in a fist under her chin. A tear escaped from beneath her long, gold lashes and splashed onto the pillow, and she whispered, "Severus," so soft as to break a man's heart.

"Why is she so cold, Severus? It's because of your mother's blood, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said, damning himself. "Phoenix fire and demon blood don't mix well. Demon blood is cold, like ice. The baby probably can't handle the phoenix fire yet. Too hot. It would become ill."

"Your blood lines may not be mixable, Severus, I hope you know that." Narcissa's voice was full of pity, and she felt for her younger, American friend and the old friend of her husband, but Severus was only paying attention to Ember, to her gentle breathing, her lush lips glistening with the gentle sheen of her gloss, her fluttering, golden eyelashes. "Beautiful Ember, my flame, my heart fire. What am I going to do with you? Should I leave you forever, my love? Or stalk you like a panther after its prey?"

Ember made a soft "mmmm" sound and rubbed Severus's thumb with her pinkie in her sleep. "Owl," she whispered dreamily, "letter," and rolled over again, facing the wall. Her hair splayed out on the pillow, glimmering in the candlelight.

She seemed so small and fragile, so dreadfully white on that sea of stark, black cloth. He couldn't tear his eyes away. She looked utterly exhausted, for all she seemed so peaceful. He reached out and cupped her pale, white cheek in his hand, running his thumb gently over her bloodless lips, so cool to the touch. She shouldn't be cool, she shouldn't be cold. Ember had always been so hot, on fire. He wondered if she still tasted of ripe, summer strawberries, if her hair still smelled of lilacs.

She was so very beautiful.

"What will you do, Severus?"

"Love her," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Take care of her, and… and the baby." _The _baby, Narcissa noted. Not _our_ baby. "I'll make sure they're provided for."

"You'll do all this from afar?" Narcissa sounded skeptical, but Snape couldn't see her expression of wry disbelief. He only had eyes for Ember's face. He nodded, caressing her cheek. Draco's mother stared at him, then muttered, "If you're going to jump her bones, please let me know so I can avert my eyes from such a traumatic scene."

"Narcissa, shut up."

"Make me."

"You are such a wench."

"At least I'm not a wench_er_."

Snape ignored that last bit and leaned down to kiss Ember's soft lips goodbye, and yes, she still tasted like strawberries. "I love you, my flame, my heart fire. Goodbye. Take care of her for me, will you, Cissy? And Draco and yourself." The older blond woman nodded once as Snape Disapparated.

It was right at that moment that Umbridge and her Ministry goons stormed through the front door, murder on their minds.

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**Next Chapter**

"I ask this favor, my Lord. That you free Lucius Malfoy from Azkaban." Severus kept his head bent, waiting for his master's word.

"Done."

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A shrill scream ripped through the woods. Draco braked hard on his _Nimbus 2006_ and flung himself through the thick foliage of the trees below, the wind whipping through his hair and stinging his eyes, snatching his breath.

_Dementors,_ he thought, terrified. _Echo's being attacked by Dementors_.

Echo screamed again, a scream that stopped Draco's heart and froze his blood in his veins.

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"Father, please-"

"Daddy, no!"

"Lucius!"

But Lucius wasn't listening. He lunged at Draco, eyes wild as a pregnant thunder cloud, and wrapped his hands around his throat. "You failed, Draco," he hissed, spit flying from his mouth. "Failure means death."

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**AN- So, what'd you think? Read and review, please! If it's worth reading, it's worth reviewing. Anything I need to fix, change, etc? Flames welcome if they're constructive.**


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